


Census survey of the kingdom of Grimdak

by rdalvi



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rdalvi/pseuds/rdalvi
Summary: The adventures of a Census Surveyor and his armed escort as they travel the kingdom of Grimdak trying to get a headcount of its citizens.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1 : The Cottage on the Hill**

"What am I supposed to do with this head?” 

Said the orc as she stepped out of the ransacked cottage holding the severed goblin head at arm's length.

“Just put it in a bag.” replied the orc’s companion and client as he rummaged through the ransacked cottage looking for anything that could help him with identifying the head.

The cottage stood alone on a small hilltop a few hours from civilization. It was old, covered in ivy but the general condition and upkeep of the cottage spoke well of the owner. It looked like one of those houses where the owner would love to regale his uninterested guests with the history of every knickknack and bauble scattered around the house and the guests would nod their heads in feigned interest as they looked for the ale to refill their glasses. 

Right now the orc’s companion would have been happy with just a name. But sadly heads didn’t talk, especially ones no longer attached to their bodies and the thieves who’d ransacked the house hadn’t left anything behind that could confirm the owner’s identity. Maybe a necromancer could have helped but they didn’t know if there was one nearby.

  
  


His name was Elen Hernorin, or as he preferred Head Surveyor Hernorin of the Royal Census Bureau of the kingdom of Grimdak

He was an elf. 

At five feet nine inches, he was shorter than most of his kind, and with a paunch and balding head he also did not look like most of his kind. He had the look of an elf that had given up on exercise a century ago which was probably true. He was dressed simply, he wasn’t one for wearing a lot of silk robes like most high elves did, especially since silk wasn’t the best thing to wear on a long journey .However that did not mean he was shabbily dressed. He wore a pair of comfortable pants and a cotton shirt with silver cufflinks. The cufflinks bore the insignia of the bureau and were needed for identification. The only piece of clothing that looked expensive was his black and gold embroidered riding cloak. Hernorin had purchased it over a century ago when he’d visited the Golden city. Beyond the gold embroidery the cloak wasn’t much to look at but it showed no signs of wear and tear even after a century of regular use and was also impervious to any kind of attack, both normal or magical. Hernorin had paid nearly a year's worth of salary for it but he’d never regretted the decision. 

The elf also wore plain silver framed glasses that were one size too large and they always hung around his nose rather than his eyes. They belonged to his now deceased mother and he’d never gotten them resized. 

He had an ageless look to him as most elves did once they crossed their two hundredth birthday but the elf still looked older than the orc for which she was thankful since she had not seen any more than twenty five summers in this world.

“Why do I have to carry it?” asked the orc as she stared at the head in mild disgust. 

“Because that’s our job. As the head surveyor, my job is to get a headcount of everyone in this kingdom, which in this case includes severed heads. And your job as my armed escort is to carry said head, that’s what you signed up for.

“No, no, no, I signed up to see the world. That is what the armed escort department advertised.

BECOME AN ARMED ESCORT. SEE THE WORLD.

Those were the exact words on the poster.”

“True, but the contract you signed also states that you will follow the orders of the person you are assigned to protect. Maybe you should have read the fine print before signing up to see the world.” the head surveyor chuckled looking up at the tall orc.

“Damn it” grumbled Officer Chainhand.

Zrauss Chainhand was her name and she towered over the older elf at an impressive six feet eleven inches. 

She came from a long line of armed escorts. 

Five hundred years ago her ancestors would offer their services as private guards for various transports across the kingdoms of elf ,man and dwarf. But after a few centuries they realised that it was better working as a government employee, the risk wasn’t any lesser but you did get paid leave and the pension plan was great too. So they had started the ARMED ESCORTS GUILD. Ever since then at least three to five Chainhands in every generation had worked for the Armed Escorts Guild in every kingdom across the known lands. Over the centuries the family had garnered a well earned reputation of safety and reliability, and were everyone’s first pick for any journey, which was why the Head Surveyor had picked the young grumbling orc who was now trying to look for a bag in her luggage hanging from her horse.

“At least it doesn’t smell,” said Zrauss as she stuffed the head in a small bag.

She tied the head to the back of her saddle and the large orc mounted her equally large horse just as Hernorin mounted his normal sized horse. Zrauss’s horse was in fact not a horse but a Horg. It was a cross between a Horse and a Warg. A strange experiment that the Orc sorcerers had carried out during the Orc-Goblin wars a couple of millennia ago. They had hoped to create a ferocious fighting and riding beast but instead just ended up with an oversized horse with lots of fur. The good thing was that the oversized horses had turned out to be the perfect rides for the orcs and were surprisingly easy to tame. 

The only feature they oversized horses ended up taking from the wolf like wargs was a tendency to howl at the moon or howl at just about anything whenever they felt like, which made them terrible for carrying out an ambush. Something the orcs realised after their failed ambush on the goblin army. Still the horgs had proven to be extremely loyal companions and could carry a lot of luggage which someone the size of Zrauss needed. 

The Orc was pretty well armed. She wore light armour with a giant sword strapped to her back with a battle axe and a couple of swords tied to her saddle. She also had nearly half a dozen knives hidden all over her body. Someone might say that she was carrying too many weapons but given the fact that her client carried nothing more than a small bow and a few arrows, she decided that at least one of them needed to be heavily armed. After all, out on the open road, iit was better to be prepared than become dragon food.

“So what’s the plan with the head?” Zrauss asked as she mounted her Horg.

“According to my list, the resident of this cottage is a certain goblin by the name of Mr. Fixtooth. He had a rather successful business making cleavers. Which is what I’m guessing the thieves used to chop his head off. What I need to confirm is if that head is in fact Mr. Fixtooth or just any old random goblin.”

“Don’t you recognise him from your previous survey?”

The bureau carried out surveys once every four years.

“Sadly, no.” Replied the elf shaking his head, “this is my first time surveying the north. This region was usually taken care off by my predecessor prior to his retirement last year to his cave of solid gold.”

“Solid gold?”

“He’s a dwarf. That was his lifelong dream. But I think only the bed is gold. The rest gold plated. But it makes him feel good. Feel like one of those dwarves if old with their massive caves and treasures.”

“Hmmm, so now what, how do we confirm that this is Mr.Fixtooth?”

“We ride back to town and show the head in the local rangers office. I’m sure we’ll get a positive or a negative identification and I can write it off my list. Then we leave the head with rangers and they can take it up from there.” Explained the elf.

“Back to town, but that’s four hours and we just came from there.” The orc was in a spectacularly grumbly mood. 

“Which means the sooner we start riding, the sooner we can get it over with and the sooner you can stop grumbling. Then we ride north and you can finally see those tall snowy mountains you’ve always wanted to see.”

“Yessss, they look so pretty in all the moving paintings I’ve seen.” Replied Zrauss, suddenly feeling a bit more cheerful than she was a few seconds ago and so they both rode off east, the direction from which they’d arrived only an hour ago.

—————-

They’d barely ridden a few minutes downhill when Zrauss felt something brushing against her left leg. At first she thought it was a fly or some pesky little insect so she tried brushing it off but the feeling kept coming back. She finally slowed down to check out the source of her annoyance. Seeing her slow down the elf stopped too.

Zrauss looked down towards her leg and noticed that a bag was swinging around even though the horse was no longer moving. 

It was the bag with the head. 

Apprehensively she reached for it when she heard a muffled sound coming from the bag,

“Huuhhhhmmpphh” said the bag.

She leaned in a little closer and poked the bag.

“Hellooo?” Responded the bag.

Zrauss immediately jumped off the horse.

“What happened?” Asked the elf seeing the look of alarm on the young orc's face

“It spoke.” Shouted the orc pointing towards her horse.

“What spoke?”

“The head. It just spoke. It said hello”

—————


	2. A head on a horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two government employees strike up a conversation with the head.

“What did it say?” Hernorin asked.

“What?” The Orc shouted as she was now almost a dozen feet away from her Horg.

"What did the head say?" the elf asked the panicking orc.

"AAA.. .. i think it said HELLO" Zrauss replied.

Hernorin looked at the bag hanging from the saddle and said,"Well, maybe you should ask it what it wants. It would be rude not to reply."

"Nope, nope, nope. My job ends at carrying severed heads, there is no way I'm going to start talking to them. You do it."

The head surveyor sighed and dismounted his horse . He made his way towards the horse and unhooked the bag.

Zrauss looked on, her eyes wide open. She was half expecting the head to jump up, bite the elf and turn him into a zombie, even though the young Orc very well knew that zombies aren't real. She'd just read far too many fantasy horror novels. But to her great relief and slight dismay none of what she'd imagined came to pass.

The elf opened the bag and saw a pair of kindly golden eyes staring back at him.

He reached in trying not to poke those golden eyes in the process and awkwardly pulled it out of the bag.

Just as the head was about to speak when Hernorin interrupted.

"Could you just wait for a moment." He requested the goblin head.

He turned around to Zrauss.

"Zrauss, hold him for a second while I figure out where to put him. It's going to be really awkward trying to talk to him like this.”

The orc gingerly stepped forward and held the elderly goblin's bald head by the skull. The goblin smiled back at her and they both looked to see what the elf was up to. Hernorin, in the meantime, rummaged through his luggage and after a few seconds pulled out a couple of cushions triumphantly. He propped the cushions on his saddle and formed a rudimentary sofa. He looked at his invention with a fair bit of pride and then motioned Zrauss to put the head. She stepped forward and gently put the head on the cushions. 

The goblin snuggled into the cushions and smiled.

“Comfortable?” Asked the head surveyor.

“Oh yes. I’ve been lying on that floor for the last three days. I would have gotten a major pain in the neck by now but luckily I don’t have much of a neck left.” The goblin chuckled.

The elf and the orc chuckled too, happy that the goblin had a sense of humour about his current predicament.

“If you do not mind, could I ask you a couple of questions?” Said Hernorin as he stood facing the head.

“Sure” the elderly goblin replied.

“Is your name Lot Fixtooth, the resident of the 42nd “Cottage on the Hill” in Dot county, Owner of Goblin Cleavers?” the head surveyor asked.

“Yes, that is me, but I closed down the shop last year. Felt it was time to retire. I just sell them in case someone shows up with a reference.” replied Lot Fixtooth, slightly perplexed by the elf’s precise knowledge of his residence and business.

“Excellent and thanks for the information about your business. I’ll update that in the ledger.” Hernorin replied as he bent down to take out his Citizen registration register from his luggage. 

The goblin, given his limited mobility could not see what the elf was up to and eventually asked, “May I ask what this is about?”

“Oh, my apologies. Sometimes I get too occupied with work and forget my manners. I’m Head Surveyor Elen Hernorin from the Royal Census Bureau and that young Orc there is my armed escort, Zrauss Chainhand.” the elf introduced himself and his companion.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you.”

Zrauss smiled and nodded back in acknowledgment.

“Wait, did you say the census bureau. What happened to the dwarf? I was always visited by a dwarf. I’m forgetting his name, he was a nice fella. Loved gold.” Mr. Fixtooth enquired.

“That was Mr. Wetod Flaskguard, my predecessor. He retired a couple of years ago and I took over from him. And yes, he still loves gold.” Hernorin replied with a smile.

“Ah, I hope he found the right cave for his retirement. He always said he wanted to retire to a cave, but those aren’t easy to come by nowadays. Especially the ones that aren’t already occupied by dragons or some other beastie. It’s also pretty hard to do plumbing in one of those. But I guess being a dwarf he preferred living in a subterranean cave.” The goblin made idle conversation as Hernorin made the entries in his ledger.

“Not really. Most dwarves don’t care about that stuff anymore. It’s pretty hard to take care of a cave and no one wants the headache of taking care of a treasure. Especially given our dragon population. Flaskguard was just the nostalgic sort. But he did find his retirement cave not too far from the Capitol. He even had the interiors done in gold paint.” Hernorin answered.

In the meantime, Zrauss decided to light up a pipe as the two oldies chatted. She was just happy that she probably wouldn’t have to ride back to town now that they knew who the head was. Even though she still had no idea what they would do with the head.

“That's good.” The goblin continued the conversation, “he talked about gold so often that I gifted him a gold hilt cleaver once.”

“Yes, I remember that. He showed it to the entire office. He had it displayed on his desk until his retirement. I’m pretty sure it’s now on his mantle piece in his cave.”

“I must confess though. It wasn’t really gold. It was just gold plated”. Fixtooth whispered.

“I think he knew in fact everyone in the office knew. We all just pretended it was real gold. it just made him happy.” Hernorin knowingly smiled back.

“Harrumph” Zrauss interrupted, “ I don’t want to interrupt you two old timers talking about old times but we still have some fairly important mysteries that need to be resolved.”

“Which are?” Hernorin asked.

“Firstly, how did Mr. Fixtooth come to be this way and more importantly, how is he still alive?” She said looking at her client.

They both turned around and stared at the goblin head on the horse waiting for the resolution to the mystery.

“It’s because of those thieving bastards. They pretended to be customers, said they were referred to by a friend. Pretty sure that was a lie. As I was showing the two of them the cleavers, a third one snuck up behind my back and swoosh. The last thing I remember was falling down, hitting the floor and blacking out. When I woke up they’d ransacked the place. They even made off with the wooden spoons. Those bastards. If I ever find them, they’ll learn the consequences of stealing from a goblin.” Fixtooth explained angrily, resolving the first part of the mystery.

“Well that answers one mystery, but how are you still alive?” Zrauss Chainhand asked.

“Oh that, that’s simple. I have life insurance.” the goblin replied with a smile.

“Wow,” Hernorin exclaimed as he leaned closer to take a better look at the head as if he would notice some of the magic that was keeping the goblin alive,”I’ve always heard of them but never seen one actually working. Not to this extent.”

“Maybe I should get one when we get back home.” Zrauss wondered out loud.

“I doubt either one of us can afford it, Zrauss. Those things cost an arm and a leg, preferable made of gold and precious gems.” The elf responded, bursting the young orc’s hopes.

“To be fair, I couldn’t afford it either. But around eighty years ago, the wizard Tholius had just moved into town and was looking to drum up some business. He was giving away ten of these at a ninety five percent discount as an introductory offer. Even then I almost went broke trying to get one. The policy was rather comprehensive, covering all kinds of accidents, diseases, weather related incidents and even creature attacks including dragons and balrogs.”

“It was definitely a good investment.” replied Hernorin.

“Oh absolutely. I picked it up just for the heck of it, figured it would be a nice thing to show off at parties. Never thought I’d need it. But look at me now, a head on a horse.” Fixtooth replied, bobbing his head.

And the conversation abruptly ended. The two kingdom employees stood staring at the head as the wind blew the three strands of hair on Mr. Fixtooth’s head and a small fox snuck out of its hole in the ground and started nibbling at the Horg’s hoof, who promptly kicked away.

“So what now? What do we do with Mr Fixtooth?” asked Zrauss restarting the conversation.

“Good question young lady. What were you going to do with me?” the goblin said as he looked questioningly at the elf.

“Well, we were going to take you to the Rangers office in town to try and get you identified so I could complete the entry in my logs. But we no longer need to go there since that issue has been resolved.” the Head Surveyor explained.

“Ahem” Zrauss cleared her throat.

The elf looked at her trying to wonder if he missed something. 

“Oh aaa..., we also needed to make sure that the Rangers would investigate the attack on you.” Hernorin, sheepishly, added to his statement . He was glad the young orc was with him so he didn’t come off as being too uncaring.

The Head Surveyor was well known for his laser focus. He had once walked into the town of Cir to conduct a survey totally missing the fact that the town was under attack by a dragon. He was however the first Survey Bureau employee to register a dragon in the ledger. That dragon was now the resident of the erstwhile town of Cir.

“Hmmmm...... well if going to the Ranger station is not a priority then could you take me to the Wizard Tholius instead so he can regenerate my body.” 

The head surveyor thought about it for a second.

“Sure, we could do that. What do you say Zrauss, wanna go meet a wizard?” The elf smiled at the Orc knowing fully well that orcs historically despised wizards as they’d been responsible for their defeat during the Great skirmish of the Potato Field. The wizards had changed sides at the last moment as the orcs had been unable to come up with the final installment of their fees. Wizards were sticklers for payment and never accepted credit and so decided to sit out the battle and watched from the sidelines as the humans defeated the orcs. 

“Yeah, sure. Why not. It’s the least we can do.” She replied through clenched teeth as she managed a huge fake smile.

The government employees got back on their respective rides. Zrauss hung the goblin head on her back in a sling and waited for the goblin to give direction.

“What,” Zrauss shouted, unable to hear the goblin hanging on her back, “you’re gonna have to speak up.”

“Go south east into the woods.” shouted Fixtooth, “take the road with the stream on the left. About an hour on the road, there is a small wooden bridge, the wizard’s home is right next to it. You’ll spot the board before we arrive.”

“Wizard Tholius and Daughter.”

And so the elf, the reluctant orc and the goblin head, headed off into the woods in the quest to claim the insurance policy.


End file.
